


just us two (cause all i want is you)

by retroyangs



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Mark Lee (NCT) Being Dumb, Miscommunication, side renhyuck & jaemle, this was meant to be complete fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-14 06:55:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28666593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/retroyangs/pseuds/retroyangs
Summary: “You’re not,” Mark rebuffs. “Jeno, I’m serious when I say I want to get back to you more than anything. But these guys are cutthroat, and you know how hard I’ve been working to get in a position where we can live comfortably, and I can be with you all the time.”“Do you even want that?” Jeno asks before he can think too much about it. He doesn’t really mean it, and he knows Mark is as committed to this relationship as he is — but silence rings in his little studio apartment, and it does on the other end of the line too.“You know I do,” comes the soft reply. “Jeno, I told you I'm in this forever.”(or, Mark has a demanding career keeping him out of the city and away from Jeno for months on end. It's easy to deal with the distance because his boyfriend usually comes home for the holidays. Except this time, he doesn't.)
Relationships: Lee Jeno/Mark Lee
Comments: 39
Kudos: 230





	just us two (cause all i want is you)

**Author's Note:**

> this came out longer than i expected it to be, and with scenes i never imaged writing, but, well. here we are. it was also supposed to be a christmas fic, but, again. here we are. a very late present for my markno enthusiasts, i hope i did them justice!!
> 
> enjoy :)

When Jeno fell for a man such as Mark Lee, he knew there would have to be sacrifices. A businessman to the core with his job as his number one priority, there was always going to be situations where work comes first, and Jeno second. He understood that, accepted it. As someone also in love with his own career, he acknowledged that Mark would sometimes have to choose, and sometimes he would not choose Jeno. 

He simply never imagined it would come up in a situation such as this, and Mark would draw a line in the sand with a dagger. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” It’s already the second time Jeno’s uttered the phrase during their two minute phone call, and he’s sure it won’t be the last. “Seriously, tell me you’re joking.” 

“I’m not,” Mark’s voice rings back, disgruntled. “I begged them to find me a later flight, but the event is running about a day longer than it was supposed to, and since it’s the holidays most of them are booked out anyway. I made some calls but they said it was hopeless, I won't be home in time. There’s nothing I can do. I’m sorry.” 

Jeno shakes his head, gripping the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turn white. His laptop is still propped open, the cursor blinking back at him from where he’d typed his last sentence, and his planning notebook is flipped open on a random page with illegible scribble. It had been a frenzy after receiving a text from Mark cancelling their holiday plans, and he can’t even recall what he was going to type next, or if he had to do any more planning for a particular scene. Not that it matters. 

“You’re not sorry,” Jeno grits his teeth. “Maybe you’re sorry that I’m upset, but you’re not sorry that you get to stay on your trip. This has worked out fine for you.” 

Mark has the gall to sigh, and Jeno can hear the chatter of other businessmen in the background. He’s probably at a conference, and wants their conversation over with as soon as possible so he can get back to doing what he loves most — working. Jeno is nothing but a nuisance at the moment. “Don’t say that. You know I want to be with you more than anything right now. I’ve been looking forward to our trip all year, and I know you have too.” 

“So then why can’t you find a way home? Did you even really beg?” Jeno snaps back, anger temporarily mulling the swirling pit of despair he can feel rising inside of him. “This is the _one_ thing I won’t put up with, Mark. I don’t say anything when you go on your business trips and don’t come back for a month, or when you’re so tired from work you can’t even tell me goodnight, or when you forget important dates like birthdays and anniversaries or even just when we’re supposed to hangout. I'm always patient, I always try to understand. But this is the _one_ thing I’m allowed to be upset about.” 

“I know.” He sounds miserable, and Jeno delights in it. Let him feel a tiny bit of what he’s put Jeno through over the years. It’s nasty and it’s unlike himself, but screw it, he’s fucking upset. “I’m sorry.” 

Jeno huffs, placing the phone on speaker and propping it on his desk. He drops his head in his hands. “Stop saying that.” The words come out slightly muffled. “It just makes me feel worse, and it doesn't change or solve anything.” 

“What can I do to make it up to you? I’ll find a way, I promise. I don’t want to keep letting you down, tell me how I can make it up to you. Just tell me and I’ll do it.”

“I wanted to spend the holidays at the cabin with the boyfriend I don’t really get to see any other time of the year. Like we’ve arranged for the last six years. There’s nothing you can do to make it up to me. The _cabin_ was you making things up to me!” His voice raises in pitch, and he snaps his mouth shut, his breathing hard.

Mark pauses, shuffling coming from the other line. Jeno thinks he’s about to be hung up on, when he hears a door click. The background noise is significantly quieter. It’s easier to read the tension in Mark’s voice. “Sorry. The conference started so I left. Don’t worry, I’m still here. I want to talk.” 

“Are you sure you wanna miss that? I'd hate to be taking you away from precious company time. Whatever will they say?” Jeno drawls, voice dripping with sarcasm. He’s not usually so sharp and on edge but he’s also never been let down in such a way either. It tears at his insides. Donghyuck often refers to him as a teddy bear, and he feels that way — if somebody were to rip out all the stuffing. 

“You’re not,” Mark rebuffs. “Jeno, I’m serious when I say I want to get back to you more than anything. But these guys are cutthroat, and you know how hard I’ve been working to get in a position where we can live comfortably, and I can be with you all the time.” 

“Do you even want that?” Jeno asks before he can think too much about it. He doesn’t really mean it, and he knows Mark is as committed to this relationship as he is — but silence rings in his little studio apartment, and it does on the other end of the line too. 

“You know I do,” comes the soft reply. “Jeno, I told you I'm in this forever.” 

It stings. Mark sounds so honest to his ears, like he’s begging for Jeno to hear him clearly, understand how desperately he wants it despite only being able to tell through his voice. And Jeno knows, but in some ways how much Mark wants them to be together but still won’t put in the work to make it happen, is what hurts the most. That even now, Jeno still isn’t worth it. 

He just wants to be worth it.

“Then act like it,” he says. He shuts his laptop, spinning around on his desk chair. No more writing is going to be done today, no matter how much Renjun protests about deadlines and the like. Misery is setting in, and more than anything he wants out of the drab apartment filled with nothing but his own perpetual loneliness. “Because I can’t keep doing this, Mark. Not if you won’t even give me the holidays.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jeno bites his cheek, tugging on his red knit sweater. It had been a gift from Mark for their second Christmas together, who’d remarked how pretty it looked against his stark black hair. It’s his favourite thing to wear during the holidays, when he finally gets to be around his boyfriend because it always means Mark will be a little more touchy, a little less shy to show his boyfriend off.

“Jeno?” Mark sounds frantic after Jeno’s silence lasts more than ten seconds. 

“I just mean,” he starts, but he’s not even sure what he means. It sounds remotely like the threat of a break up, which he doesn’t want. But perhaps — perhaps he owes it to himself to be with someone who values him more than he values work sometimes. It'd mean he doesn't have to feel so low in moments such as this. But then he thinks of his Mark, and their last Christmas spent in bed, fire flickering in the background and wrapping paper lost in the sheets. Mark had tasted like marshmallow and mint, his body flush from the bitter cold. Jeno had enjoyed taking his time with him, mapping out his body and tracing the lines on his abdomen with his tongue. It’s a sacred moment, when Mark is so giggly and free, no longer held back by the reins of professionalism.

He doesn't want to lose that.

“You just mean? What are you talking about? Jeno, I—”

If Mark were with him, Jeno would hold up a hand to silence him. Now, he just has to cut him off, “I just mean that this is getting— it’s getting really hard.” 

“Baby.” Mark exhales deeply, scrambling the line. Despite the tense conversation, the familiar pet name has Jeno feeling giddy for a moment, even if it dissipates quickly. “I know. But I won’t give up on us, okay? So please, don’t give up on me.” 

Jeno bites his cheek so hard he feels blood on his tongue. He’s trying to refrain from saying anything cruel, anything that will do any damage they can’t recover from — they’ve never once had a vicious fight because it’s not in either of their natures — and he doesn’t want it to start now. But he needs to say something, needs to communicate. “I just feel like you gave up on us when you decided to cancel our trip. That’s what it feels like, Mark.” 

Jeno can hear Mark's steady breathing on the other end of the line. “I know it does. But I promise you, I'd never give up on us. I wouldn't do that to you, Jeno. Are you still going to go?” 

“It’s tradition. I wouldn’t miss it for anything,” Jeno rasps, feeling for the first time the physical symptoms of his hurt. His head feels heavy as he speaks. “I’ll be there.” He doesn't want to go anymore, but he throws his disappointment in Mark's face.

“Maybe you can invite Donghyuck and Renjun?” Mark suggests. A weak attempt to smooth over the glaring issue. But it’s impossible because all he wants is Mark, and nothing else will make him feel better.

He says as much. “I don’t want them. I want you. You know that.” 

“I do.” And it sounds just as hollow as Jeno’s heart. 

“Then there’s nothing else to say.” 

“I guess not.” Mark sounds defeated. Jeno feels as though he’s been to war and back, too. “Talk soon? I love you.” 

Jeno murmurs a yes, and a halfhearted declaration of love in response. With nothing else to say and neither of them willing to leave the other a satisfactory response, they hang up. Mark, to no doubt go back to work by sitting at a stuffy conference with a bunch of old men and snobby, overeager young adults, and Jeno, to return to sitting in his empty apartment. 

He doesn’t want to go back to his writing, the struggles his main character is facing in the scene too familiar to his own. There is only so much he can project into his works, and he’s never been one to sit in his own unhappiness. But he’s had nothing planned today, since his only career is his writing, and he has no other obligations to fill. His last book signing was months ago, and he doesn’t have any public speaking jobs lined up. His days lately are a blur — which is why he’d been looking forward to the trip up to the cabin with Mark. 

He peels back the curtains, usually preferring darkness when he writes to really immerse himself, and is surprised to find sunshine glaring right at his face. It lights up the place, and he determinedly sets about shedding the light onto his dreary day — freeing his apartment from his misery. While a few trees blow in the harsh winter breeze, it doesn’t seem too bad a day. Snow is light on the pavement outside. It isn't the worst weather to travel outside.

As if his thoughts become a manifestation, his phone buzzes. He expects it to be Mark, hopes it to be his boyfriend texting him with an update about the situation and that he can come home, but it’s Donghyuck. His heart sinks, even though he's glad to hear from his friend.

**Hyuck**

10:12 — Renjun wants to go buy decorations, r u in? 

He glances around his apartment, eyeing the messy clothes on the floor. His bed is no better, the duvet having found its way on the floor and his pillows spread in all directions. He really should make it a washing day, with the sun so bright. And, he shivers, the takeaway containers from the night before still sit on his coffee table, yet to be thrown away. But he still feels the pit in his stomach, the urge to cry resting right behind his eyelids, and he thinks he might need a distraction. A day with his best friends is exactly what he needs to forget about Mark, at least temporarily. 

He texts back asking to catch a ride with them. And he decides to change out of his red knit sweater in the meantime. 

He ends up stewing in his own silence during the ride to the shopping centre, sitting awkwardly in the back whilst his friends bicker in the front. The topic today seems to be Donghyuck's obsession with buying every Christmas decoration in sight, something Jeno remembers from their college days. Their dorm room was tiny, the evidence being how close their beds were to each other, even when against the opposing walls. They weren't allowed to hang anything on said walls, but in the months leading up to the holidays Donghyuck still found a way to pin their stockings, wreaths, tinsel _and_ holly up. Their Christmas tree was crammed between Jeno's desk and the door and he remembers vividly trying to study with the branches brushing his face. It was tiresome explaining his freak roommates obsession with decorating every time he had someone over.

For as long as Jeno's known him Donghyuck has always gone all out during the holidays and why Renjun still continues to fight it, he doesn't know. It's always served him better to go along with his antics.

"We don't need any more lights," Renjun says firmly, hand gripping the wheel tight. "We already have them in every room in the apartment, where else would you even _put_ them?"

"We don't have any in the bathroom," Donghyuck adds, smug. His thigh bounces in the way it does whenever he knows he's about to get his way and he’s excited about it - which is a majority of the time.

"Why would we need them in the bathroom?"

"So I can feel the holiday cheer when I'm taking a shit."

Renjun crinkles his nose, shooting him a foul look. Jeno refrains from snorting. Renjun seems close to irritated, and he doesn't want to be on the wrong side of that wrath. Too many times has he had a book smacked on his forehead when he refuses to submit a chapter he isn't happy with, or a threatened beating when he shows up late to a book signing. In fact, he probably owes Renjun for how many times he's saved his career.

"Hyuck, maybe there's something else you can buy? Like some Christmas candles? I heard there's a gingerbread one that smells exactly like a kitchen during the holidays." He vaguely remembers Mark mentioning it to him over FaceTime, when he'd told him they could make the cabin smell nice.

 _"I like the scent of pine, though."_ That's what he'd said back. Not that it matters anymore, because Mark doesn't plan on being there, anyway. Jeno isn't even sure if he wants to, either. He'd let it slip to spite Mark, but the more he dwells on it, the more he'd rather not go.

"He has a whole cupboard full of candles," Renjun groans, rubbing his left temple. "Please don't encourage him, Jen."

Jeno shrugs, and zones out for the rest of the ride.

They decide to shop for presents first, all too aware that there would be no money left to spend if Donghyuck were to be allowed off his leash and sniff out the Christmas decorations. It's quite busy for a weekday, the streets alone filled with shoppers huddled in their winter coats, brushing the dainty bits of snow off their bags and holding their takeaway coffees tightly. There's a slight chill in the air, but it's as nice as it gets during this time of the year.

They enter one of the nicer department stores, taking the escalator and beelining straight for the men's section. If either of his friends notice that Jeno is more withdrawn than usual, reacting late to conversation and gaze wandering, they don't mention it. He does catch them sharing a look when he gives a less than enthusiastic response to a coat they know he's had his eyes on for a while, and he safely assumes he'll be grilled about it later.

He managed to get all his gifts a while ago, the day before Mark left on his current business trip. It'd been a nice day, maybe a little too cold, but Mark had let him snuggle into his coat and bought him a warm drink. He still recalls how calming it felt to have a day to themselves, free of responsibility, without it being part of Mark's scheduled time off. It had eased his worries for the most part, and Mark's hand had never left his. But now, there's no Mark to kiss away the anxiety, to reassure him that they'll always come back to each other. He's done the exact opposite.

Jeno shakes his head, clearing himself of thoughts of his stupid boyfriend. One of the workers, a young teenager, bumps into him as they pass with a bundle of shirts. His glasses slip off his nose at the contact. He pushes them up again, blinking wearily. They don't seem to have noticed, rushing away and disappearing between the racks of clothing. He shrugs it off and means to follow Donghyuck and Renjun who head to the jeans, giggling to themselves. Clearly they've gotten over their little argument. As the one who introduced them to each other he should be enthused that they're such a good match — but it is slightly infuriating that all their bickering brings them _closer._

Jeno certainly doesn't feel closer to Mark.

Instead, a tie stand catches his eye. He wanders over even though he has no need for them, immediately picking up a maroon one. It's silky, slipping between his fingers. It automatically reminds him of Mark, despite his partner having an abundance of them. It's always Jeno's go-to gift. But this year he has his presents sorted, so he's unsure of why he can't seem to let it go. He doesn't even know where he and Mark stand right now to be purchasing him a gift.

"Whatcha got there?" Donghyuck appears at his shoulder, staring down at his hands. "Fancy," he grins. "Gonna spoil your boyfriend this Christmas?"

Jeno grips the tie tighter, swallowing heavily. Donghyuck sounds so happy for him that it's harder to face the reality that will be this Christmas. "Maybe. I haven't decided yet."

Donghyuck hums, picking up a navy tie. "How long has it been? six years? I think that deserves a celebration on its own."

Jeno fights to keep his voice steady. "Yeah, it's been a long time."

"How is Mark, by the way? I feel like we never see him anymore. Wasn't it at, like, Jisung's housewarming party? Dude it was —that was, like, _months_ ago.” 

Jeno shrugs, dropping the tie back on its stand. "Yeah. Something like that." It speaks volumes about how _not present_ Mark is in his life, and his cheeks burn with shame. "He still works all the time, but he said he'd try harder to see you guys."

There must be something in his expression because when Donghyuck turns to face him, his eyes narrow ever so slightly. "He seems to talk a lot about trying. Does he actually do what he says?"

Jeno opens his mouth to answer, but Renjun bounds over to them, a couple of shirts strung over his arms. "Found anything?" He asks, though his smile seems too tight to have not picked up on what they're talking about. He eyes the tie still in Donghyuck's hand. "That's nice. But you don't wear ties?"

Donghyuck grins at his boyfriend. "It's perfect for my Junnie."

Jeno would mime hurling if Renjun wasn't already doing it. Donghyuck's pension for oversaturated sweetness has never been something either of them have grown used to, or want to tolerate in the slightest. "Put it back," Renjun shivers, grabbing the tie and shoving it back on the stand. It would make Jeno laugh if he weren't still staring at the maroon tie, thinking about it against Mark's delicate white shirts.

"Hey, buy it if you want," Donghyuck says, staring at him. "If Mark doesn't deserve it I'll hav--" He squeaks as Renjun elbows him in the side.

"Ignore him," Renjun rolls his eyes. "If you want to buy it, do it. We support you, no matter what you decide. Agreed?" He stares sharply at Donghyuck until he nods.

Jeno frowns at the two of them, hesitantly picking up the tie again. "Why do I feel like we aren't talking about a tie anymore? You're both being weird."

Donghyuck mutters something under his breath, earning himself another jab in the side.

After no real response from either of them, Jeno huffs and heads for a register, tie still in his hand. While he's unsure of how he feels concerning him and Mark, he still loves him. He'll buy him the tie and sort out the rest later. A part of him still hopes Mark will make it to the cabin, some way, somehow, so he resigns himself to the purchase. Donghyuck and Renjun trail behind him, whispering in small voices.

They decide to go looking for Christmas decorations instead of buying lunch because Donghyuck spots one of the more iconic, grand Christmas stores and decides to beeline for it like a child stumbling upon a toy store. He leaves Renjun to chase after his boyfriend, stopping on his own in an aisle of wooden nutcrackers. He and Mark have their own collection so he doesn't have any intention of buying one, but some of them have such beautiful designs, he can't help but stare. Clad in their little waistcoats and black boots, he smiles fondly as he walks down the aisle. Seeing all the beauty it has to offer, it's such a shame that his own holiday cheer feels like it's being blown apart by a tornado. Or torn apart by a pack of wild dogs. Or stolen from him by a selfish boyfriend. One of those things.

He heads to the aisle he presumes sell the different sorts of Christmas lights, and from a few feet away he can already hear his friends bickering with each other, bringing back the same argument from the car. Donghyuck holds up a box, the cover displaying a chain of frosty blue snowflake lights, "can't you see how pretty they'd look on the bathroom mirror? Use your imagination, please babe!"

Jeno grins, shaking his head at his friend's determination. He'd admire it, if he wasn't already aware of how smitten Renjun is for Donghyuck. "I'm going to look for decorations to hang on the tree, will you guys be alright on your own?"

"We'll come with you," Renjun says. They move to follow him as he spins on his heel, but it doesn't escape his notice that Donghyuck stuffs the box of lights under his arm, his face full of glee.

They end up in silence, something he isn't necessarily opposed to. Hunting for pretty decorations is a distraction on its own, and he hunts through the plastic tubs placed neatly on the shelves, his fingers running across smooth wood. He pulls out a gingerbread man, the face painted in such a way that the eyes seem to twinkle up at him, a startling resemblance to Mark's. Jeno's always waxed poetic about his boyfriend's eyes, how when he looks in the mirror he must have an entire galaxy of his own reflecting back.

He drops the decoration like it burns him.

"Everything okay?" Renjun asks, sidling up to him.

"Oh, are we finally going to talk about why he's been acting so weird?" Donghyuck butts in, appearing at his other side. It would be hilarious, if they weren't staring at him with such serious expressions. He feels remotely under attack, not that he's ever been great at dealing with scrutiny from others.

"I haven't been acting weird," he argues, stepping closer to the shelf as an older couple try to squeeze past them.

Donghyuck presses right against his side, tapping him on the cheek. "You're a terrible liar, Jeno. I don't know why you think you're not, because you really are."

"Are you two buying anything?" Jeno cuts him off. "Because I'm finished here." He decides on the spot that he won't bother getting anything for the cabin. Not when he doesn't want to go and be alone with his misery. At least if he stays at his apartment he can pretend that he's eighteen again, away from his family and fine celebrating Christmas alone because there's no one he'd be able to share it with anyway.

Renjun crosses his arms and cocks his head to the side. "Aren't you going to buy anything to take to the cabin? You and Mark bring something new every year."

Jeno shrugs, biting down on his bottom lip. "We don't need anything." He stares down at his scuffed converse against the white linoleum, praying they don't chase the topic further. But he should know better.

"Bullshit. Did something happen?" Donghyuck questions.

"I think it's obvious that it did. The question is, what happened?" Renjun is always so quick to catch on to everything Jeno, and it would be irritating if it didn't make him so good at his job.

Jeno sighs, feeling it deep in his soul. Now they've caught on, they won't let up any time soon. The least he can do is control the setting in which he lets his big baby tears fall, because it's starting to hurt a little too much the longer the day drags on. "Let's grab some lunch first."

Donghyuck pays for his lights, even with his disgruntled boyfriend glaring daggers at the employee by his side. If Jeno had bet on it he'd probably have won some money — as he'd always known, Renjun's weakness is Donghyuck, even when he's annoying. They traipse over to a little cafe, not in the mood for a giant meal. Jeno hasn't felt anything akin to hunger, his stomach silent as his throbbing heart takes centre stage. Thankfully it has little booths, lined with tinsel and a little candle in the middle of the table, so they claim one in the corner of the room, away from the windows. After ordering their coffees, Renjun and Donghyuck sitting opposite him, begin their stare-down.

"There isn't much to say," he starts, bluntly. "Mark can't make it to the cabin this year." He says it in one go, like the faster he says it the less it will hurt to admit out loud, to someone who isn't himself. He watches as their expressions morph from slight shock to barely concealed rage, Donghyuck's eyebrows knitting together and Renjun gripping the sleeve of his coat tight. "It's fine, guys. I already talked about it with him, he said there's nothing he can do. The flights got delayed so their company decided to extend the convention so they wouldn't be stuck in their hotel rooms on a work trip."

Renjun watches him carefully. "And you're just... fine with this?"

Jeno fights back the rising wave of tears. It's much harder to stay calm when talking to people angry on his behalf, because he wants to stay rational. He'd told Mark this is the one thing he gets to be mad about but he doesn't _want_ to be mad. He never wants to stay mad at Mark, because it feels so awful. His chest feels like it's clogged with stones, digging into his heart and forcing it up his throat.

Donghyuck speaks before he can answer. "Maybe it's an opportunity. Like, he could use it as a writer's retreat? Away in the cabin with no one else around except for other people who came to relax... cosy Christmas vibes. No?" It sounds like an attempt to help him feel better, his words carefully crafted.

Jeno swallows, his voice coming out noticeably more steady, for which he's thankful for. "My apartment is my writer's retreat. You know, that’s the whole reason why I still rent it even though Mark and I live together?" 

What he leaves out is that he still lives there most of the time, when Mark's away on business trips. It's easier to miss him when his shampoo is still in the shower, his clothes are still shoved inside the dresser because he can't fold to save his own life, and when his side of the bed is in Jeno's line of sight when he first awakens. His old apartment is his writer's sanctuary, but also the sanctuary for his own damn heart.

Renjun pauses for a second, right as the waitress brings them their drinks. Jeno inhales his instantly, shivering as the smell of roasted coffee beans and chocolate smothers his senses. On the saucer sits two mini marshmallows, and it's exactly what he needs on a day like this. "I actually agree with Hyuck, I think it might be nice to spend some time away. I mean, it'll be sad without Mark, and no offence, but he's an _asshole_ for ditching you the only time you have to spend together — but you shouldn't let it ruin your plans." Renjun takes a sip of his coffee, smacking his lips together. "And you really should get the next chapter of your book to me as soon as possible."

Jeno's lips twitch. Leave it to Renjun to pressure him to turn in a chapter, even during a serious conversation such as this one. "Well, if it's that important to you, Jun. I guess I can go by myself."

Jeno dunks the marshmallow into his drink. Renjun grabs his hand still hovering over his mug, staring him down with such a genuine expression of care that his brain does catch up attempting to figure out what he's done to earn such a response from his normally reserved friend. "Will you be alright to drive there yourself? Donghyuck and I would be happy to take you."

Donghyuck sputters, falling silent from whatever look Renjun turns to give him. Jeno nods, taking a sip of his drink. He doesn't want to ruin their holiday by wasting their time with a two hour trip to the lodge and then back to their apartment. He’ll be fine on his own, without Mark — and if he tells himself that, enough times, maybe he’ll start to believe it too.

  
  
  


The day drags on for Mark, filled with conferences that involve a lot of men talking big and stroking their own egos, flashy presentations that include no actual points, or depth, or anything useful at all — and shaking the hands of people he'll never see again in his life (and definitely won't be adding on LinkedIn). He's usually not so sour about this sort of thing, he thrives in these environments, but his mind has been a mess since the morning, namely his unsettling conversation with Jeno, and he still hasn't managed to shake it back to its normal state. All in all, it hasn't been a very productive day, which leaves him slightly deflated, like a spit riddled balloon after a long party.

The walk back to the hotel is quiet, the streets dark. Beside him, Sicheng's shiny dress shoes click on the pavement, and there's a content smile on his face as he stares up at the starry sky, almost shielded from their vision by the looming skyscrapers. The city they're in is somewhat overwhelming during the day. The rush of traffic and crowded streets littered with impatient citizens tends to be a bit too intense, but at night it's a different sort of peaceful. A sort of freedom. Mark still prefers the place he calls home, but it's nice to travel, experience new sights and live somewhere outside his own bubble for small periods of time. But something always feels missing, no matter where he goes. He hasn't adjusted to that feeling.

"You good?" Sicheng asks, snapping Mark out of his reverie.

He's passed the main entrance of their hotel without realising, prompting the question from Sicheng, and he gives him a sheepish grin, nodding. The hotel sign is big and bold, gold plated lettering positioned above the revolving glass doors, so it’s a wonder he missed it, and a little embarrassing. He receives a shake of the head in response to his blunder, but Sicheng doesn't say anything else. They enter the upscale hotel, their company having chosen to be rather generous this time — the sleek marble floor speaking for itself, never mind the _clearly_ high-end furniture scattered throughout the giant atrium-type entrance. And the glaring fountain in the middle of the room, trickling water. Gone are the seedy motels with stained bedsheets and ominous auras, for which he won't be complaining. They greet the staff manning the front desk as they pass to the elevator, stifling their yawns as they prepare for the long night ahead. Mark slams the button, and as they wait for it to come, he grips his briefcase tighter. 

It's such a beautiful hotel, he wants to take a picture and send it to Jeno, or give him a tour over FaceTime. It's a great strategy to combat the distance between them, sharing with each other little snippets of their day, through videos and pictures. But, he thinks, it'd probably be in poor taste at this particular time.

Guilt pinches at his stomach as the elevator dings its arrival.

It's been eating at him all day, his conversation with Jeno. He could tell he was holding back, wanting to protect Mark's feelings, even when clearly hurting himself. The raw, unbridled kindness is part of what had attracted Mark to Jeno in the first place, but in some ways he'd wished he'd yelled at him instead, opted for a more intense response. He knows he deserves it. He wants to yell at himself, ask himself why he can't find a way to get home to Jeno. He knows he _wants_ to. But his boss had told him he'd been doing so well — and his attendance is important — and his eagerness to throw himself into every situation when they needed him has only served to benefit him. He can’t give up when he’s so close to being in a comfortable position. And his higher ups really had wanted him here to represent them, sent him to the airport with the promise of a promotion in tow. He doesn't want to wash all that down the drain.

But he doesn't want to save it at the expense of Jeno.

An ache begins in his right temple, and he shifts his briefcase to his left hand, rubbing at the spot with his right. He winces in the mirror, meeting eyes with a mildly concerned Sicheng. "Are you sure you're alright?" He inches closer to Mark, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

Mark nods, furrowing a brow. "Just a headache. I'll take a painkiller when we get to our room, there's one in my suitcase." Packed by Jeno, he notes to himself. 

_"Just in case,”_ he’d argued. _"I know you get headaches when you're stressed."_

Jeno is an angel, and Mark is a terrible boyfriend. He comes to the conclusion when they reach their floor, and is still contemplating it as they stop outside their room, his scattered thoughts still finding their way back to something as simple as Jeno reminding him to pack painkillers. Mark would never have thought of it, never too worried about his own health, but Jeno does. He rolls his shoulders to relieve some of the tension in his muscles, hoping with it his thoughts will fade.

Sicheng mumbles his apologies as it takes a second for their key card to work. When it does let them in, he scrambles to his suitcase on the other side of the room to grab the painkiller, throwing his dirty clothing aside to dig for the packet. A little heart is drawn on the cardboard near the opening. He pauses for a moment, a small smile blooming amidst the stormy weather that is his mind, because it’s something so minimal yet so thoughtful. Shaking, his head, he grabs one of the tablets and swallows it with ease, throwing himself onto his bed.

He shoves his face into his pillow, inhaling deeply. It smells like regular laundry detergent and nothing like Jeno's cologne, no matter how much he wishes it does. Sandalwood, bergamot and orange blossom. He doesn't know how long it's been since he's smelled it, especially in their apartment. On their sheets, or his own clothes, or their couch pillows Jeno likes to snuggle.

He feels a tap on his shoulder and turns his head. He blinks up at Sicheng who stares at him blankly. "If you're not dying, I'm going to take a shower. Just letting you know."

Mark nods, turning back into the pillow.

"You should text your boyfriend," Sicheng says over his shoulder as he retreats. 

Mark nods, too busy stuck in his mind whirlpool to bother really paying attention. He feels so exhausted, his body growing heavy as it sinks into the mattress. The painkiller hasn't worked its magic yet, the dull throb continuing in his temples. It's punishment for what he's doing to Jeno, he's sure. A part of him, one he doesn't like to entertain often, is surprised he hasn't been dumped yet. If it had been anyone else, he doubts they'd put up with him for so long. But Jeno stays, every time. And God, does he love him so much. He misses him now, always does when the events of the day wind down and he's stuck in hotel after hotel.

Still clad in his business attire, he digs into his pocket. He pulls out his phone, squinting at the harsh glare as his lock screen lights up. It's of Jeno, pouting at the camera and throwing a peace sign, drowsy eyes and scarlet lips. He was drunk, at a party his friends threw. Mark's never had the urge to change it, even if he's teased for being too sentimental. It had been the first event Jeno had introduced him as his boyfriend.

He tries to call him, and he thinks it's gone through when he hears his distinct voice, a little dorky but mostly charming, but it just directs him to Jeno's voicemail. He expects it, but it's still a blow to the gut. He uses one hand to loosen the tie around his neck, the other to type out a text to Jeno. He probably doesn't want to hear from him anyway, but he'd be a bigger asshole if he doesn't try.

 _'I know you probably don't want to hear from me right now, but text me when you get this so I know you're okay._ S _weet dreams.'_

He hesitates before sending another text.

_'I love you.'_

He throws his phone to his side, but it bounces off and clatters to the floor. He can't be bothered to reach for it, so he kicks off his shoes and lays back in bed. Just staring at the ceiling. He hears scuffling in the shower amongst the spray of the water, along with a cuss, and assumes Sicheng has dropped the shampoo bottle. It brings him a little amusement while waiting for a reply he probably won't get until morning. Jeno's probably packing to leave for the cabin tomorrow, if he's still going. And Mark will be here, waiting for news from the company on when they can get flights to send them home.

He doesn't notice the shower has stopped until Sicheng steps out of the room clad only in a pale blue towel, dripping water all over the marble floor.

"Jesus, dude!" Mark squeaks, averting his eyes. "Give a guy a warning first!"

"I forgot my clothes," Sicheng says simply, pattering over to his suitcase against the wall. Thankfully Mark's bed is closest to the window. "Plus, you're annoying me with all your thinking, I could literally sense it in the shower. I figured you'd be happy that we get to stay for a couple more days. You were excited for this trip, right?"

He can hear Sicheng dressing himself, but doesn't remove his gaze from the ceiling until he's sure he's safe. "I guess."

Sicheng makes a noise of confusion, his bed sinking as he sits to face Mark. "You guess? What does that mean?"

Mark shrugs, struggling to maintain eye contact with Sicheng in his charcoal coloured silk pyjamas, so he lets his eyes slip shut. "I don't know. I haven't liked all the travelling as much lately. That's all." His head throbs sharply, as if it's a form of punishment.

"I'm still not following. Mark, the company's lackey, who's shown up to work so many times he got his own award at the last company dinner, isn't liking the free fancy trips anymore?" he questions dryly. "Does this have anything to do with your boyfriend?"

"No!" Mark defends instantly, sitting up on the bed. He shakes his head at Sicheng, who raises an eyebrow, leaning back to assess him. "Jeno's always supported me. He's not the problem, like at all."

Sicheng casts him a doubtful look. "You've been weird since you left the conference earlier today. I didn't say anything because if you aren't dying I don't care about your business, but you look like you're dying."

Mark assumes he's joking about the dying part. But the pain in his head has yet to cease, so perhaps he's not. "It's... Look, it's just a bit complicated." He chews on his bottom lip, gaze shifting to the side. "I usually take the holidays off, right? And it's because Jeno and I have this thing-- this _tradition_ , that we stay at this resort with these really cute cabins, and we rent one and we decorate it and share gifts, and we spend Christmas with just us. It's kind of like my present to him because we don't see each other a lot. But. Since the work trip got extended I had to tell him that we can't do it this year. That I can't make it." He finishes lamely, waving his hand.

"I see,” Sicheng murmurs, glancing at the ceiling."I'm starting to understand. How long have you been dating?"

"Six years."

Sicheng's eyes bore into his as he stills. A Look of bewilderment overtakes his features. "You barely see your boyfriend of _six years_ and the one time you dedicate to each other you choose to _stay at work?_ "

“Listen—when you put it like that it sounds bad.” Mark scratches his head, slumping his shoulders. It feels a bit shameful, to almost be confronted and then berated over it by a third party. But he has his firm reasons, and Sicheng should understand, being in the same job. "The company said it would be good if I stayed! And like... all the flights were booked out because it's the holidays... I couldn't really do anything. I tried, man."

"You didn't try very hard," Sicheng states bluntly.

"I did," Mark objects. "I want to be there. I had a plan for it and everything. It was going to be special this year."

Sicheng looks like he can see through every bit of his apparent bullshit. "I can't believe he didn't break up with you today. Do you think he's planning to?"

Mark's mouth drops open. "Dude, why would you even _say_ that?"

"Because I would have," Sicheng shrugs as though he hasn't just dropped an emotional bomb that sends a spike of fear through Mark.

"Jeno knows why I am the way I am with work. He trusts me." The spoken words are a weak attempt to reinforce it in his mind. And Mark does have his reasons, the same ones he drunkenly slurred to his boyfriend against his own wishes, but Jeno knows all the same. He just wants the best for them. 

Mark huffs, deciding to hunt for his phone to distract himself from the thought that Jeno really _could_ be planning to break up with him before it has time to do much damage. He slides off the bed and onto the floor, debating whether he wants to stick his hand under it. But he's interrupted because Sicheng speaks again. "Why didn't you just ask Chenle for a ride?"

Mark blanks entirely, sitting back on his feet. "Who's Chenle?"

"Our intern."

"I have no idea who that is." He only vaguely remembers their other intern, Sungchan, who’s too tall and spills way too much coffee.

Sicheng relaxes back on the bed, fiddling with a button on his pyjama shirt. "He was asking around to see if anyone wanted a lift back to our city in case they need to be home for the holidays. His boyfriend is coming to pick him up so they can be together on Christmas."

Mark squats down again to grab his phone, successfully pulling it from under the bed. His heart sinks when he finds no reply from Jeno. But the news of Chenle the intern has brought about newfound determination inside him, and part of him wants to give in and leave. Say fuck the company, and surprise Jeno at the cabin. "Do you have his number?" Mark asks, his voice shaking slightly from the adrenaline pumping through his body, as he debates and considers and debates again. 

"Uh I don't, but I can text Dejun for his room number."

Sicheng gets on it in an instant. Mark searches for his shoes as he feels the last remnants of his headache fade, the painkiller finally kicking in.

  
  
  


Chenle answers the door in a shirt with an obscure _Star Wars_ reference and hot pink polka dot boxers. 

He eyes them almost calculatingly, in judgement for imposing on what seems to be the time for room service, if the cart Mark gets a glimpse of from behind Chenle’s small figure is anything to go by. Mark is higher up in position than Chenle, an intern, but the aura he exudes in waves has him squeezing his hands together behind his back, wanting to impress him. 

It’s weird, because the man is in his boxers, Mark still in his suit. Why does he feel uncomfortable? 

Without Sicheng here the effect is amplified, his coworker often being the much needed distraction from Mark’s squeamish nature, keeping a cool head at all times. Now it’s up to Mark to come up with words that don’t sound like a pile of mush, all while staring into Chenle’s wide eyes. Mark watches as the corner of his mouth twitches and it hits him — Chenle finds this amusing. 

“Uh, hi.” Mark clears his throat, already starting off on awkward footing. “I’m Mark.” 

Chenle hums, shifting on his feet. “I know. But what are you doing knocking on my door? How did you even find my room?” As an afterthought he adds, “I’m taken, by the way. If this is your idea of a proposition.” 

Mark chokes on a wad of his own spit, cheeks blooming a brilliant red. The heat simmers on his skin, so hot he could very well fry an egg there. “No! That’s not— That’s not what I’m here for. I have a boyfriend, I swear, I would never—” He’s aware of how flustered he sounds, and Chenle’s added laughter isn’t much help. 

“Oh, man,” Chenle shakes his head, shit-eating grin on his face. “I know, dude. Or Sir, whatever. I’m just messing with you.” 

Mark pauses, biting his lips to refrain from letting slip anything else remotely humiliating. He’s a bit dumbfounded that an intern has managed to tease him so easily, and that now they’ll probably always have this impression of him. It won’t look good if it reaches others below him in the company. 

But he’s doing this for Jeno, and he itches to slap himself for bothering to think about work _again._ He came to a decision. He has to go through with it. 

“Are you here for a ride?” Chenle drawls, leaning against the doorway. 

Mark is reminded that they’re still in the hallway of the hotel and others have probably already heard their exchange. He flushes again, and nods in response to Chenle, who walks back into his hotel room and waves at Mark to follow. He scurries inside, shutting the door. 

A part of him isn’t surprised that Chenle’s hotel room is an absolute mess, the beds unmade, suitcase contents spilling onto the floor and wet towels dampening the sheets — despite knowing nothing about the man. But Mark’s always found pride in his character observation skills, in fact, it’s what’s made him so good at business. “Who’re you rooming with?” 

“Sungchan,” Chenle replies, flopping onto the couch in front of the mini television. “He went to get ice.” When Mark continues to stand in the middle of the room, Chenle raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to sit down?” 

Tonight's the night of many embarrassments for Mark Lee. He sits opposite Chenle, knees pressed tightly together. “So, I heard you’re like, getting a ride back to the city?” 

Chenle nods, eyes drooping like he’s already bored with their conversation. Most of the interns tend to make more of an effort with those higher up than them, but this man shows absolutely no interest at all. It’s puzzling. “Yep. My boyfriend was pretty annoyed when he found out I was going to be stuck here, so I promised I’d find a way back. And then he said he’d kick my ass if I didn’t find a way so he’s coming to get me himself.” 

“Sounds… determined?” 

“He’s the best,” Chenle replies, eyes dreamy. But he snaps out of it to narrow his eyes at Mark. “So you need a lift? Why? Did you want to come with me? Who’d you hear about me from?” 

Mark’s eyes widen, startled at the rapid fire questions. “Um, yeah? I need a lift because my boyfriend also wants to see me. We have this, like, tradition thing,” he gestures vaguely. “And I said I couldn’t go so I think he’s upset with me, and I want to surprise him, you know. Sicheng told me you were looking for anyone who needed a lift so I would— well— really appreciate one…” He trails off, uncertain. 

He doesn’t have anything to worry about, because Chenle claps his hands together, delighted. “Oh man, a surprise! Dude, that’s so romantic, I’m so on board with that. You can come with us.”

“Are you sure?” They don’t really know each other. 

“Yup, I’ll text Jaemin right now.” Chenle reaches over the coffee table, digging through a pile of clothing. When his hand emerges, it’s with a phone. “He loves this romantic shit, he’s going to be so excited.” 

Mark smiles down at his lap. Jeno will probably be mad at him for a bit, he’s aware. This is the first big fight they’ve had for a long time, and the place they’re in as a couple is murky and unclear. But hopefully, by putting in some effort, Jeno will be able to see that Mark does want to make him a priority when he can. 

“We’ll leave in the morning, is that alright with you? It should take like, nine, ten hours. So prepare to be best friends with us by the time we get you to your boyfriend.” The casualness throws Mark for a loop once again. 

“Yeah, that’s fine with me.” He stands up, brushing the dust off his trousers. Driving by car was always going to take longer, he’s not surprised. “Thanks for this. I owe you one.” 

Chenle shrugs. “Nah, it’s cool. Just put in a good word for me with the big bosses, yeah?” He winks. 

Favour aside, Mark thinks he prefers Sungchan. 

  
  
  


The driver, Jaemin, turns out to be exactly as Chenle had described. Bouncing with enthusiasm no person should have at eight in the morning, he'd thrown himself at Mark before they'd even exchanged names, and demanded to know every part of his plan to surprise his boyfriend, down to the minute details. Thankfully, Chenle had shoved his boyfriend in the car.

Mark came to the conclusion that the intern’s grown on him after he'd stayed back in Chenle's hotel room for a while the night before. He'd made himself comfortable on the couch right as Sungchan had returned with the ice, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Mark hadn't been pressured to act a certain way, or to impress them. The two were so laid back and comfortable with him, discussing their futures that held half-assed plans to financial success, but neither of them seemed to particularly care. It stuck with him, words spoken by Sungchan, followed by a shrug. "We have our whole lives, dude."

And it's something Mark has never taken into perspective, that he has his whole life to be on top of things. He's always wanted to get into a comfortable position within the company before progressing in other areas, such as his plans with Jeno, and it's a tad embarrassing that it's a freshly-graduated, freakishly tall intern that has him realising something so simple.

Offhandedly, he determines that if Jeno decides to murder him, it's a fair call.

"Are you right back there, Mark?" Jaemin grins at him through the front mirror. "We lost you for a sec."

Mark has no idea what they've been discussing for the past couple of minutes. They're still neck-deep in city traffic. "Ah, yeah. Just thinking about stuff.”

A loud groan comes from the front of the car, and Mark pauses.

"Sorry dude," Chenle pats his stomach. "Jaemin, can we get something to eat? I'm starved."

Jaemin eyes the heavy traffic surrounding them and then turns back to Chenle, his stare blank. "Babe. I can't even get out of the _street_ _your hotel is on_ and you want me to find you somewhere to eat?"

Chenle nods enthusiastically, cute as an eager puppy. Mark's own stomach clenches, begging for any sort of nourishment. It's not the worst idea to grab something to eat before the long road ahead of them takes its toll, it's just a shame the morning rush is such a, well, rush.

It seems Chenle gets whatever he wants when it concerns Jaemin, and once some of the traffic starts moving they follow directions to a Mcdonald’s nestled between two abandoned apartment buildings. They have to park a block away, Mark clambering awkwardly around his suitcase thrown in beside him, and the bitter wind nips at Mark's bare skin, his nose numbing slightly. He shoves his hands in the pocket of his coat, averting his gaze as Chenle and Jaemin snuggle closer to each other. He aches with the want to have Jeno beside him, too.

They claim the last table, the others filled with men and women in suits, sharing breakfast before heading to their corporate jobs, and families with shrieking children who’ve been dragged out way too early for their liking. It's a bit too loud for Mark to enjoy the experience, but his stomach doesn't protest as he eyes the various delectable snacks displayed on the menu board above the registers. 

In retrospect it would have been easier to eat their food in the car, and Chenle says as much. 

“The car will stink,” is Jaemin’s reply. “And you’re a messy eater.” Nobody argues. 

Mark orders a couple of hashbrowns and a cup of coffee, enough to warm him up and keep him going for the rest of the day. Jaemin and Chenle share hot-cakes, feeding each other bites as they giggle softly, murmuring things Mark doesn’t have a hope to understand. Inside jokes he’d have no clue about. He's sitting on the outside of their own little bubble, but they’re doing him a favour. The least he can do is suck it up. 

The coffee isn’t particularly good, bitter on his tongue and staining his teeth, but he swallows it anyway. It’s at this particular time Jaemin chooses to break away from his intense stare down with Chenle to ask his first question. “So, Mark. What’s the deal with you and your boyfriend?” The twinkle of mischief in his eye is enough for Mark to know he’s up for interrogation. “Chenle barely told me anything.” 

“Except that he’s going to do something romantic,” Chenle butts in. 

“Oh, that’s right!” Jaemin’s eyes go wide, and he clutches his plastic fork with enough intensity to crush the thing. “Tell me all about it! I love this sort of thing.” 

Mark sinks into his plastic chair. “I uh—kind of couldn’t come to our annual holiday trip because of work, so he was really upset. So… I’m coming with you guys to surprise him.” He gestures vaguely. 

Jaemin nods in understanding. “Yeah, Chenle mentioned that. But how did you two meet? Like, what’s your story? How long have you been dating?” 

Mark puffs his cheeks as he considers the questions. It’s been such a long time that their meeting is a distant memory, albeit still a precious one. “We met on some random dating app.” It sounds lame even to his own ears, so he hurries to give a bit of detail. “Um, during our last year of university? We weren’t taking it seriously but we kind of just— hit it off, I guess? I was in business and he was an english major so no one really thought we had enough in common to last but, here we are.” 

Nothing about their first date had been serious at all. Mark picked Jeno up from the library at midnight and they went to go get something to eat. Neither of them had expected much out of it, because really, who does that for a first date when they’re planning for it to go somewhere? But Jeno had been such a delight, a nice change from the losers Mark always resorted to (frat boys who reek of b.o and cheap beer, but sue him, they’re big and beefy and _sue him_ ), that he’d begged for a second date. Begged. With slushy dyed teeth. How Jeno had found him suitable for a second date will forever remain a mystery, because he doesn’t want to know. 

“Iconic,” Jaemin says. “Love it. Defying all odds, that’s a great headline. What’s he like?” 

Mark bites down on his bottom lip, the storm of questions a tad uncomfortable. “Jaemin is a journalism major,” Chenle states by way of explaining his behaviour. “It’s ingrained in him to be nosy.” 

That certainly explains things. Mark clears his throat, finding their rapt attention quite burdensome. That, and he’s aware that if he really wanted to he could talk about Jeno for hours. “He’s an author, actually. Kind of new to it, but his first book did really well, and he’s got a solid fan base.” 

“That’s cool,” Chenle responds, reaching over and stealing a bit of Mark’s last hash-brown. 

“It is. He works really hard, and he deserves it. It’s a hard career to be successful in.” 

“What’s your relationship like?” Jaemin props his chin on his palm, blinking at Mark. “This is your payment for the drive so don’t leave anything out.” 

Mark holds back a snort, but it eases some of the tension he feels at all the attention being on him, talking about someone so personal and important to him. “It’s great, honestly. He’s kind of the most understanding person I know, so he never gets mad. We’ve been together for six years and I think this time is the only time I’ve seen him act so…. furious. We’re usually smooth sailing. He puts up with a lot, he’s always willing to compromise when I’m being an asshole.” A sad smile slips forth, unintentional on his part. 

“Wait, so he was mad?” Chenle frowns. “Cause you were stuck at work?” 

Mark sighs. “Yeah, we had a fight. I could tell he was holding back, but I honestly have no idea what’s waiting for me when I get to the cabin. It could be the final straw I mean, I haven’t been the best boyfriend to him.” His voice quietens. “I wouldn’t exactly blame him if he decides he’s had enough.” 

Sicheng’s words have been lingering in his mind longer than he’d like to admit, words he’d mulled over as he’d tried to sleep. It’s true that Jeno could decide they need to break up. He hasn’t responded to Mark’s message. 

Jaemin has an inquisitive look on his face, and it remains as he takes a sip of his own drink. “Sounds like you just need to make it up to him. If he’s as understanding as you say. Six years is a long time to just give up like that.” 

“There are plenty of ways to make it up to him,” Chenle wiggles his eyebrows. 

“You’re sick,” Jaemin rolls his eyes, but the face he makes at Chenle is nothing but fond. 

Mark lets himself laugh, despite the unease inside his heart. He does have a plan, something he’s had in mind for weeks, months. It had taken a while to convince himself, and then gather Jeno’s thoughts on the subject. And now, with the silence from Jeno’s end and the fight they’d had, talking about their future — he’s not sure whether he should go through with it. 

“It looks like Mark’s got something in mind, anyway,” Jaemin remarks. 

“I might,” Mark shrugs, biting into what’s left of the hash-brown. With his free hand, he reaches inside his pocket and brushes the velvety box tucked inside, still secure. 

  
  
  


Jeno wakes up at half past five, restless with puffy eyes and an empty heart. It’s still dark outside, only the first few slivers of morning light peeking under the curtains. The alarm he'd set on his phone is brutal to his sensitive ears, and he groans as he blindly reaches for the bedside table, grabbing his phone to turn the damn thing off.

Silence surrounds him, as it will for the rest of the day. He’s supposed to be heading up to the cabin, and despite his own reluctant thoughts about it, he’s dragging himself up there, regardless. If he’s spending the holidays alone, he may as well do it in a place he can feel some comfort — even without his person there. So be it. 

He's unhurried as he showers and gets ready to load everything he needs into his car. It takes multiple trips down to the parking garage, now that he doesn't have Mark here to carry half of the boxes filled with decorations they've bought over the years. It's a relief that they store them at Jeno's little apartment anyway, so he didn't have to go through the trouble of returning to their shared place, an unceasing reminder that Mark isn’t here, and won’t be here. 

No one is up this early, so he can at least be thankful that he has the elevator to himself, and he won't have to worry about any funny looks from his neighbours.

At around half past six he's on the road, gripping the steering wheel tight. He turns the radio loud to both wake him up, and fill the void that the empty passenger seat is leaving. He plans to stop for coffee and something to eat, the growls of his stomach growing louder and louder as he passes different eateries. He wants to get to the cabin as soon as possible so he can spend a majority of the day getting some writing done. 

After a take-away coffee, three bites of a toastie and the hits of various nineties boy bands ringing in his ears, Jeno makes it to the cabin at ten. He grabs the key at the admin centre with relative ease, heading to the same cabin they rent every single year. He parks his car out the front. It’s cozy, the cabin, the kitchen, lounge and bedroom all located in the same room like his own studio apartment, and it's for that reason they love it so much. After so much time apart, he and Mark rarely leave each other's sights. Snow tends to pile thick in the small area the resort is located, and Jeno grits his teeth as his converse dampen, shivering under his hoodie and woollen coat. 

The cabin is bare bones when Jeno steps inside, the minimal craftsman style furniture leaving much to be desired but giving him plenty of room to fill with what he’s brought. One by one he brings in the boxes of stuff along with his suitcase of clothes, his laptop, and various chargers. The box for the tree he has to drag in, creating lines in the snow, and he grunts as he forces it up the stairs and through the door. One of the little kids staying with their family a cabin over from him gawks, and then snickers under his breath as Jeno trips over the door mat. Jeno sticks out his tongue, but he’s unsure whether it’s aimed at the child because his glasses choose that vital moment to fog up. 

Once everything is finally in order, he unpacks the baubles and wooden decorations to hang on the tree, quickly determining that the lights are an issue he’ll tackle later. Mark is just as hopeless at figuring them out, so Jeno is doomed regardless. It’s less fun without company, so he turns on his holiday playlist to brighten up the mood. _All I Want for Christmas is You_ blares through his phone speakers, and if thoughts could kill, Mariah Carey would be ten feet underground.

After wrangling the tree, he manages to get it standing in all its glory near the fireplace, in front of one of the windows. The first bauble Jeno picks up to hang on the tree is the one with Mark’s name on it in glitter cursive. Jeno had bought it during their first holidays together, when they both had less responsibility and more time to enjoy each other. He’d just thought it was cute that he could hang his boyfriends name on his tiny tree, but Mark had kissed him until he was breathless and blushing. 

He’s smiling before he can catch himself, and he lets it linger as he hangs it on one of the higher branches. He may as well indulge in some of the good memories while he’s stuck here alone, and Mark is presumably stuck in a hotel, or at a conference. While a part of him wants to scream at Mark, grab him by the scruff of his stupid work shirt that look _amazing_ on him, and shake him until he makes sense, at the end of the day he misses him, and he knows Mark misses him too. He tries to look past the anger and believe that Mark did try, is trying. 

He’s just reaching a breaking point with Mark. But he hasn’t broken yet. 

The unanswered message he’d read over and over last night until he fell asleep is proof of that. 

By noon he has almost everything hung, the holly garland lining the wooden top of the fireplace and the head of their bed, the candles placed on the coffee table. The lights work, something Jeno’s had his doubts about, and the star on top of the tree glimmers against the frosty sunlight seeping through the windows. The maroon snowflake blanket lays on the bed, fluffy and cosy. Various knick knacks like their nutcrackers and little gingerbread house are scattered on every other surface. He purposefully skims over Mark’s presents peeking out from under the bed — it hadn’t felt right leaving them at home. Not that it would have mattered. The kitchenware is set aside and Jeno’s clothes are in the chest of drawers next to the bed. 

Now that the decorating is complete, he stands in the middle of the cabin, lost. He has half a mind to start writing, but he’s not in the headspace. But it’s as if a higher power is listening to his internal struggles, and his phone rings, the tone indicating a FaceTime call. It’s Donghyuck, and Jeno answers, cracking into a wide smile. “Hey.”

“Jeno!” Donghyuck shouts into his phone, and Jeno flinches at the pure static blaring from his own. “Babe come look, Jeno answered!” Renjun must be lurking somewhere out of sight. 

“Of course I answered,” Jeno scoffs, flopping onto the couch. It squeaks under his waist, and a lot of the cushion has deflated over time, but the balls of his feet enjoy the sweet release from the pain of standing on them for an hour. “I’m not that bad of a friend.”

“Nah, it’s not that.” Donghyuck is crunching on a candy cane, and Jeno’s ears want to shrivel up and die. Renjun appears from behind Donghyuck’s shoulder, wincing in the background. “Renjun thought you might’ve gone a little _emo_ on us and shut yourself in the cabin forever. And you like, wouldn’t answer your phone. But I told him you’d just whine to us instead.” He adds, “and look! here you are.” 

“You called me,” Jeno deadpans. 

"Details," Donghyuck dismisses him with a wave of his sticky hand. "So we're assuming Mark was a no-show?"

Jeno's leg jiggles because his hands aren't free to fidget with, holding his phone in place, and his nervous energy needs an outlet of some form. "Yup."

Renjun shoves beside Donghyuck to appear in the small frame of the FaceTime call, his expression grim. From the firm press of his lips, Jeno already expects something critical to pass them momentarily. What he doesn't expect, however, is how weighted it is. "So what does that mean for you and him?"

It sort of steals Jeno's breath when he hears it, muffled slightly from his speaker. It's almost like a scalpel prodding at his heart, tiny needles pricking his skin. He squirms on the couch, his mouth twisting in distaste. "I don't know," is all he can really say. Such a question has him uncomfortable. "I don't really want to think about it."

"Well you should," Renjun prods. "He's disappointed you so much, recently, and don't think I haven't noticed that it impacts your work," he narrows his eyes. "You've pushed back so many deadlines lately, it's unlike you. No relationship should be making you feel like this."

Jeno swallows heavily. It's true that Mark's absence grows harder and harder to deal with each time he leaves. But he's always supposed it's natural, as he's come to want Mark to have a permanent place in his life. Of course it hurts more now that they're fully developed adults who live together with commitments, rather than freshly graduated college students who 'kind of' see a future with each other. Mark is the love of his life, and he can't picture anyone else by his side. And he tells Renjun as much.

Donghyuck pipes up before Renjun can dish out anything else, finished with his candy. "Has he talked to you since?"

Jeno clears his throat, the texts he'd received flashing in his mind. "He just wanted me to tell him I was okay. But," he hesitantly adds, "I didn't reply."

"Why not?" Donghyuck's voice raises in volume. "What do you mean you didn't reply?"

Jeno flinches, sliding down the couch, his head hitting the decorative pillows. It's an unflattering angle for his friends as he raises his arms above his head, but it's the least of his worries. "I was mad! I thought he deserved it. Just a little bit."

"Lee Jeno, acting petty," Donghyuck clicks his tongue. "I never thought I'd see this day." He throws his spare arm around Renjun, the other holding his shaky phone.

"Mark also texted me he loved me."

Renjun cocks an eyebrow. "And you didn't reply to _that_?"

Renjun's astonishment has him pausing. Is it really so out of character for him to pull something like that? "Why? Do you think he would be mad?"

Donghyuck shakes his head, shaggy hair flying everywhere. "No, dude, he probably thinks you don't love him anymore."

Jeno's eyes widen as his heart rate picks up. "Should I reply then?" His palm slips on the phone, the beginnings of sweat coating it. He wipes his other hand on his grey sweats, taking an inappropriate time to realise that they're actually Mark's. It only makes him feel worse.

Renjun sighs, his glasses slipping down his nose. He doesn't push them up again, only looks at Jeno with barely-concealed sympathy. "Do you still love him?"

"Of course." He's confident this time, though his position on the couch, pathetically sprawled, may indicate otherwise. "I can picture being with him for the rest of my life. You guys understand that, right?" His friends' cheeks flush at the exact same moment, and the bashful grins to each other are enough of an answer. "I just,” Jeno sighs. “I just need for him to promise that he'll change. And maybe not abandon me again."

"And what if he doesn't?" Renjun argues. "What if nothing changes, Jen?"

Jeno opens his mouth to answer despite his mind being blank, but it's Donghyuck who replies instead. "I think if Mark wants it to work like he says he does, he'll make the changes for Jeno. Right?" He looks at his boyfriend for confirmation.

"Look at you, being smart," Renjun coos, tugging on Donghyuck's earlobe. Donghyuck scowls, batting his hand away.

Jeno giggles at their antics. He feels significantly better thanks to them, and surer about how he's going to face Mark and what he needs to say. "It was still uncool of him for leaving you alone, though," Donghyuck says.

Jeno huffs. "I know. When you guys leave I'm going to be so bored. Like, what can I even do?"

"Write," Renjun is blunt. "You have a deadline, remember?"

"But I don't _feel_ like writing."

"And I don't _feel_ like telling my boss you couldn't be arsed to write when it's your job."

"Fine," Jeno rolls his eyes, sitting back up. He sways slightly, the blood rushing back to his head. "I'll go get my laptop."

"I think we have to go now," Donghyuck pouts. "Renjun's cousin wants us to go play princesses." He can vaguely hear the babbles of a toddler in the background, probably asking for that exact thing. Oh how he longs to be that young and free. 

"And you do make such a pretty one," Renjun smirks, placing a kiss on Donghyuck's cheek despite his attempt to dodge.

Jeno's stomach drops as it dawns on him that he’ll be left to his own devices, but he plasters a smile on his face. Their presence has made the cabin less lonely, and their absence will only bring back the feeling twofold. But they deserve to spend the holidays with the rest of their family so he sends them off with a wave, and a promise to call them tomorrow, or if he has any trouble.

It's with great reluctance that he moves from the couch to hunt for his laptop and get to writing, Mark superglued to his mind the whole time. 

  
  


By the time Jaemin pulls up to the resort, the three of them are various degrees of irritable and exhausted. Jaemin is by far the worst, as the one who drove the whole way, and he blinks wearily at Mark as he spins around in his seat. "It's show-time, Markie."

Stuck in a car with people for hours on end has proven to be a fast way to make friends, and it's with nothing but sincerity that Mark throws back a giant grin. "Thanks. For everything guys, I mean, seriously." And it's not just due to the ride they've given him — he's been grilled again and again about his relationship with Jeno, and handed advice he'll be sure to take with him if Jeno is willing to accept him again. 

Plus, Chenle recommended cutting back time at the company, quoting that his hours are _"literally insane man, like, who does that when you have a hot boyfriend at home?"_ And, well. It’s a terrific point. 

"You can make it up to us by letting us meet Jeno sometime," Jaemin says. "Don't you dare forget about us, Lee."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Mark chuckles, his hand on the door handle. "I still have to see Chenle at work, after all."

"And I'll be bugging you everyday." Chenle is smug as he rests his head against the car seat, eyes drooping. “We’re besties now.”

It's later than they expected it to be, the sky around them pitch black. Mark turns his phone's flashlight on. "I'll let you guys get home, then." He opens the car door, the wind hitting him instantly, even through his thick coat. He hears Chenle squeak as the frost fills the car. He works quickly to pull his suitcase out, and it hits the snow with a soft thud.

"Bye Mark!" Jaemin calls before he shuts the door, and with a wave, they're pulling out and leaving into the night.

When he can no longer hear the hum of the engine and the tires squelching, Mark starts his trek towards the cabin. He and Jeno rent the same one every year, a little further back from the entrance and closer to the dense woods, much to his dismay. But the lamps that line the main path are still on and he sticks close to them, nerves kicking about inside of him. He's pretty sure they're the only thing keeping him awake at the moment, the rest of his body yearning to fall into a heap and snooze forever. His knees ache from being cramped within the car, and while they had a few pit stops, it hadn't been enough to truly stretch out, especially with their suitcases cramming them in tighter.

Lost in his thoughts, he makes it to the cabin faster than he'd expected. The curtains are drawn shut and he can't see inside, but Jeno's car is parked out the front, at an awkward angle because his boyfriend has never been the best driver, and he blinks back the tears preparing themselves in his eyelids. Now that he's so close he _longs_ to see Jeno. 

He pulls out his phone, fingers shaking as he presses on Jeno's contact. He hopes to hell that Jeno picks up as he approaches the stairs leading up to the cabin. And he's surprised when he hears a click, brief silence, and then a hesitant voice. "Hello? Mark?"

"Jeno," Mark breathes out. He means to say more, but Jeno's gentle tone has him gaping. The wind nips at Mark's cheeks, scrubbing them red raw, and it kicks him into gear enough to spit out the next couple of words. "Hey uh, listen Jen. I’m like really cold so—"

"Mark," Jeno cuts him off. "Mark I'm so sorry, there are so many things I want to tell you, _good_ things because I wanted to reply to your text but I got distracted and I just feel so—" Jeno stops. Mulling over Mark's words. "Why are you cold?"

"Baby," Mark says with a smile on his face. Jeno doesn't sound mad. _Jeno_ is apologising. He really could cry out of relief. "Baby I'm cold because I'm _outside._ "

Jeno makes a confused noise, the little voice squeak Mark is oh so fond of. He quells a rising fit of laughter as Jeno remains puzzled, waiting until he has the realisation. "What do you mean you're outside? Like, outside of the hotel?"

Mark puffs out a breath, lips quirking upwards. The hand wrapped around his suitcase handle is stinging from the cold, and snow is gathering in his hair. "No, baby, not the hotel."

"Then where would you—" Jeno gasps, and then there's a thud.

Mark's grin quickly turns into a worried frown. "Jeno? Is everything alr—"

The front door of the cabin bangs open, Jeno standing in the doorway. He trembles, clad in Mark's sweatpants hanging low on his hips, and a navy jumper Mark had bought himself and gifted to Jeno instead because he looks so much better in it. His hair is in disarray, like he's gotten up without a thought. And he has. Because he's staring directly at Mark, eyes swimming with unshed tears.

"Hi," Mark says.

And it's all he needs to say before Jeno is taking off, jumping down the front steps and straight into Mark's arms. Their chests collide, knocking the breath out of Mark, and Jeno's strong arms wrap around his waist as they fall _down, down_ and onto the bed of snow. Jeno's head knocks against his chin and the pain flares hot and sharp, but Mark just nuzzles closer, Jeno's midnight hair tickling his cheek.

It's cold as fuck. The snow melts against his back and Mark can't stop shivering, but Jeno's breath is hot against his neck, his fingers digging into Mark's waist through his clothing. His boyfriend doesn't have to speak for Mark to know that he's checking whether he's really here, in front of him. That it isn't just a dream, something his mind has conjured up to torture him.

"Jeno," he starts, but Jeno shushes him. There's a wetness on his neck. Jeno's crying. Mark trails his hands upwards from their position on Jeno's back, threading them through his hair. Jeno shudders against him, breathing heavier than before, and the silence of the greater area allows him to hear his sharp intakes of breath and shaky exhales. "Hey, baby, hey," Mark attempts to get Jeno to raise his head, the chill of the snow starting to seep into his bones. "Jen, look at me. Please."

Jeno shakes his head against Mark, and Mark sighs. He swallows heavily, his head swimming. Jeno must be so overwhelmed at the moment, and he needs to get them into the warmth of the cabin. "I'm going to sit up now, because we can't freeze to death here. It'd be a shame for me to come all this way just to die of frostbite," he jokes.

Jeno must pay attention to his words, because slowly he moves off Mark. He rolls to the side, facing the open sky above them, and Mark finally gets a glimpse of his face. It's bright red and marked by tears, eyes swollen and blinking up at him lazily. Mark props himself up on his elbows, shifting to face Jeno. "Hi," he says stupidly. He doesn't know what else to say.

Jeno surges upwards and kisses him. His lips are warm where Mark's are cold, and the sudden action throws him off. But still, he kisses back with fervour, moving closer to Jeno's heat. Jeno's hand finds its way to Mark's jaw, cupping it to pull him even closer, until Mark is hovering over him. Jeno has always been talented at getting him where he wants him, and today isn't any different.

They spend an embarrassing amount of time just reacquainting themselves with each other, until their lips are red raw and Mark's head is spinning. It's when a particularly violent shiver wrecks Mark's body that Jeno pulls away. "We should get you inside," he gnaws on his bottom lip, face apologetic.

Mark shrugs, "it was worth it." However his teeth start clacking together and his legs are so numb that he stumbles on his measly attempt to stand, and Jeno winds his arm around his waist, pulling him tight against him. His spare hand pulls along Mark’s luggage. 

"We _really_ need to get you inside," he says.

They don't say much at all after that and Jeno leaves Mark to sit on the couch as he runs him a bath. It's in the lone silence that he takes the chance to look around at everything Jeno has done to the place, and it really hits him that Mark has left him to do all of it himself. He can't imagine how abandoned Jeno must have felt — driving up alone, unloading everything from the car, placing about all the decorations, setting up the tree. Each a reminder that Mark wasn't here.

Jeno reappears as the bath fills up in the background, and Mark clears his throat as he approaches.

"I forgot how long baths take, a shower you can just turn on," Jeno huffs, crossing his arms as he stands in front of Mark.

Mark simply stares. Behind the shallow annoyance in his eyes is something deeper. Mark catches it as Jeno eyes the door. He's waiting for something to ruin this moment. He thinks Mark isn't going to stick around. And can Mark blame him?

He wordlessly reaches for Jeno's arm, wrapping his hands around his wrist and tugging Jeno onto his lap until his back is firmly against Mark's chest. Jeno knows him well, and doesn't protest as Mark buries his head into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of sandalwood, bergamot and orange blossom. "I'm not going anywhere," he murmurs.

Jeno tenses. "I didn't say you were."

"I'm staying with you," Mark continues, pressing his lips to Jeno's exposed neck. "I promise, I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," Jeno tries to sound smug, but it comes off a little cautious. Nevertheless, he turns his head and presses their foreheads together, eyes alight with determination. "I'm holding you to that." 

  
  


It's when Jeno begins to wash Mark's hair that he finally asks the question he knows has been on his mind the entire time, looming over both their heads. Jeno's thighs are firm around Mark's waist as he leans against Jeno's chest, and any other time this would be a desirable endeavour, naked in a bathtub with his boyfriend. But this is intimate in a way they rarely are, and Mark feels like an open book, Jeno determined to read every page.

"What changed your mind?" Jeno's hands are gentle as they massage the shampoo into his hair. "Why'd you decide to come? It sounded so important for you to stay."

Mark is glad Jeno can't see his face, because it's quick to fall. Even expecting the question left him no time to prepare an answer, one that is good enough to fix the hole that this will inevitably create. On one hand it's a good thing Jeno wants to communicate with him, instead of letting this become an issue they'll have to face further down the line. On the other, Mark is terrified the conversation will steer them off a cliff.

He draws his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. The warm water runs down his back as Jeno begins rinsing his hair, fingers making quick work of it. He's always so good at taking care of people. It's high time Mark returns the favour. "I don't really know for sure," he starts slowly. There's no easy way to word any of this. "Sicheng kind of made me realise that you might have, well." Jeno makes a sound encouraging him to continue. It only makes him want to dunk his head into the bath water. "He thought you might be close to breaking up with me. Or at least, he would have if he was you. Does that make sense?"

Jeno's silence is nerve-wracking as he works conditioner onto Mark's split ends, and it's only when he spins to start on Jeno's hair that he gets a glimpse of his face. The expression is unreadable, and his heart stutters. Rarely can he not tell what Jeno is thinking, and it scares him beyond belief. Mark squeezes some of the shampoo out of the bottle, the scent of mango stronger now that it's on his hands. He works in silence, tongue poking his cheek as he concentrates on massaging Jeno's scalp without tugging harshly on his strands of hair. He's vaguely lightheaded, whether from the heat of the bath or Jeno's lack of response, and he's never been good at holding anything in, anyway. 

"Being away from you is harder than I used to think. Like, I enjoy working. I always want to be busy, you know that about me." Jeno nods, indicating he's still listening. “And I always thought the more work I put in now, the better our lives will be at the end of it. I can give you everything you want. So there wasn't anything stopping me really, you know? But dude, I just — after that phone call I was in this daze, and all I could think about how something just wasn't right, and I wasn't confident about it at _all._ And it took Sicheng verbally kicking my ass for me to realise that nothing is worth missing my time with you." He exhales, filling a plastic bowl with water and rinsing the suds from Jeno's locks. "I never realised how these holidays are holding our relationship together. In some way. And every time I come home it's harder to leave again."

"It's the only time I know I get to have you," Jeno's voice wavers.

He turns on the spot, slicking back his hair so water doesn't drip down into his eyes. He grips onto Mark's bicep, eyes distinctly red-rimmed and flickering with uncertainty. Mark's never seen him so _undone_ , so _unsure._ Maybe because he's never been around when it's happened. "I don't like getting emotional this easily," Jeno clenches his jaw. "But when I tell you that's all I needed to hear, I—"

Jeno hangs his head. Mark pulls him closer, one hand on the back of his neck and an arm wrapped around his waist. Jeno welcomes him, mirroring their earlier position in the snow, head pressed to Mark's neck. It's always been his safe place, where he can feel Mark's pulse, knowing with certainty that he's here. And if Mark hadn't wanted to keep Jeno with him then, when he’d confessed this to Mark all those years ago when they first found each other, he does now. He presses a kiss to his wet mop of hair, never wanting to leave him again. "I'm so sorry, Jen."

Jeno shakes his head, water flicking into Mark's eyes. He doesn't complain, just blinks them away. "Don't apologise," Jeno says, voice muffled. "I've always been okay with it."

Mark's hand leaves Jeno's neck and finds his chin with his finger, lifting it so they're eye to eye. He drops the other hand from his waist to cup Jeno's face, thumbs brushing away the mix of bath water and tears. "But now we aren't okay with it, so we'll figure something out."

"I'm not letting you throw your career away because of this one time thing—”

Mark shushes him with a kiss. Despite his adamance, Jeno responds immediately with a languid lick into Mark's mouth. Always so eager, so loving, so willing to throw things aside for Mark's sake. And maybe someone will argue that Mark doesn't deserve him, and he'll willingly agree. But he has Jeno now, here, with him. He doesn't rush as their mouths slide against each other, and the taste of bath water would otherwise be disgusting but neither of them could care when they're happy to just be able to _kiss_ , Mark reuniting himself with the shape of Jeno's mouth, the line of his jaw, the sensitive part of his neck just below his ear. He maps it all, because he's here and he _can._

There's no real intention or purpose behind their motions, and reluctantly, they pull away. Jeno's eyelids are slipping, and Mark's own are heavy. The water is an uncomfortable room temperature, and his fingers are nothing but pruned. "How about we finish up here and get some rest?" Mark suggests as Jeno leans his sleepy head on his shoulder.

After conditioning and rinsing, Mark braves the cold air and fetches their towels on the rack, helping Jeno stand and wrapping it around his shivering form. They dress in silence, but this time the silence is comfortable. Jeno snags one of Mark's t-shirts, black, horribly faded, and emblazoned with their college mascot. It's oddly nostalgic, and Mark lights up when he sees it. It really has been so long since they've known each other, having changed so much.

It's when they're snuggled in bed, Mark slowly drifting off with Jeno's arms wrapped tight around him that he whispers against the back of his head. "I just want you to know something."

Mark hums, nuzzling into his pillow. He debates rolling over to meet Jeno's eyes, but decides he's way too tired. It's been a long day, the start of the trip with Jaemin and Chenle seemingly far away, and it's been an emotional one too. "What, baby?"

Jeno finds his fingers in the sheets, intertwining them with his. "I don't need you to go on trips all the time and suck up to your stupid execs so I can have an easier life in the future." He squeezes their hands to emphasise his point. "I just need a life with you in it. Whatever happens, happens."

His sweet Jeno. He sounds so hopeful, and Mark wants to give him whatever he wants. Fuck the company execs — he's had the biggest wake-up call of his life, and drag him to hell if he doesn't do anything about it.

"Sleep, baby," he mumbles, lifting their joined hands to press a kiss to Jeno's knuckles. He feels the smile Jeno buries against his back, and that's all he needs to reassure himself that everything will work. "I'm not going anywhere."

  
  


When Jeno starts to stir it's the early hours of the morning, birds chirping outside the window. Mark has rolled over during the night and his hot breath tickles the dip in Jeno's collarbone. His breaths are even, and he's still fast asleep, unbothered by Jeno's wriggles. If Jeno tilts his head, he can spot the little pout Mark wears, an action he's carried out in his sleep since Jeno has known him, when he used to take a nap in the library waiting for Jeno to finish an assignment, when he'd come home from his part-time job waiting tables exhausted and needing to get off his feet. It's been so, so long, and Jeno loves him like it was yesterday.

Jeno's leg starts to cramp trapped under Mark's sprawled limbs, and he's beginning to crave any form of sustenance because he hasn't eaten since Mark arrived. But it's almost too early to cook anything and he doesn't want to run to the market down the street without his boyfriend, who seems content to stay fast asleep. He wrangles himself out of Mark's hold despite his attempts to pull Jeno closer, an arm thrown around his waist. But Jeno slides out of their sheets with minimal grumbling from Mark so he considers it a success, and stumbles over to the cupboards in the mini kitchen. He vaguely remembers packing hot chocolate mix, mint extract, and a bag of marshmallows, a delicacy he and Mark _thoroughly_ enjoy. So he gets about making it, careful not to rustle the bag too loudly or slam the drawers shut as he fetches the mugs — Santa Clause for Mark, Rudolph for Jeno. But his plan to stay quiet is ruined regardless because it dawns on him that he has to turn on the kettle, and the loud hissing is enough to wake even the deepest sleeper.

But he doesn't have to worry because he's so lost in his thoughts that his frown lines are craters on his face, and he barely registers arms wrapping around his waist until he's pulled against Mark's chest. He breaks out into the biggest smile, enough for his cheeks to ache. "I didn't hear you get up."

Mark follows him to the sink to fill the kettle despite the awkward shuffling it entails, not letting Jeno go for a second. It's warranted, because he doesn't want Mark out of his sights either. Jeno shivers as Mark scrapes his ear with his teeth, nipping at it gently. "I wanted to surprise you." He nuzzles Jeno's shoulder, breathing him in.

He prays he doesn't smell horrible. Their bath yesterday minimises the chance, but still. "Consider me surprised." He eyes the goosebumps on Mark's bare arms. It is cold in the cabin, but it's never a problem since they always spend most of the time wrapped in their sheets. "But you should go back to bed, I can make these just fine."

"I know, I just don't want to leave you alone anymore."

They'll still be in the same room, but Jeno softens at the implication. He doesn't have to see Mark's expression to know he's still kicking himself for his behaviour, because that's what he does. He lets it hang over his head for eons, until he feels he can make up for it. But he's done that ten times over. "Then stick close," he replies gently, playing with Mark's fingers firm on his waist.

"Is that mint and marshmallow? You brought all that stuff? And you're making it for me?"

He chokes back a laugh at Mark's bewilderment. "I know you like the taste."

Mark's voice visibly lowers. "On you, yeah."

The first press of Mark's lips to Jeno's jaw already has his knees shaky, but sue him, his boyfriend is hot as fuck. Mark bites down, so gently he barely notices the brush of his teeth, before licking over the spot with his skilled tongue. As he moves to mark another area he can reach from behind him, a jolt of arousal shoots south, and Jeno clears his throat loudly. "Mark."

"Hm?" Mark responds, vibrating against his skin.

Jeno blinks, shaking his head to prompt himself to concentrate on the _drinks_ and not the boyfriend trying to devour him at present. "Let's make the drinks first."

Mark grumbles under his breath, but detaches himself for Jeno's neck.

"You can make yourself useful then, and think about what we can have for breakfast later."

Mark spins him round until they're face to face, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Jeno pointedly ignores how his lips are already spit-slicked from branding Jeno's skin, and the delightful ache it brings. "I have some ideas already."

Cheeks burning, Jeno rolls his eyes, batting Mark away and shifting to flick on the kettle. _"Naughty,"_ he mouths over the hissing of the kettle, Mark sending him a wink in turn.

They make their drinks without any incidents, though Jeno visibly flusters under Mark's suggestive gaze. They've never been able to keep up a pretence, and now that their issues are resolved for the most part, he knows his boyfriend wants nothing more than to make up for his actions in a way he knows he's good at. And he really is _good._ But Jeno knows that once they fall down that rabbit-hole it's going to be difficult to rouse them into doing anything else, and they still have a number of things to get through, such as breakfast and present-opening. Which, he thinks, it's a good thing he decided to bring Mark's presents anyway.

They squeeze onto the couch after Jeno drags the presents from under the bed, and he notices Mark is a little green as he hides what he bought for Jeno under one of the decorative pillows. But he dismisses it because he's nervous too, weirdly so, and it's only heightened when Mark places his hand on his thigh under the thick blanket they're curled up in.

"I didn't get you much," Jeno begins meekly. "Just some stuff I knew you might need."

The corners of Mark's mouth curl into a smile, and he looks at Jeno like he's purchased him the world. "I'll love it."

Jeno flushes, sucking on his bottom lip. He gestures to the presents on the coffee table, awkwardly wrapped in generic holiday paper and Mark complies, opening them one by one. They really aren't anything special, such as the tie he bought when he went out with Renjun and Donghyuck that seems like _ages_ ago but was only a couple of hours. Mark is still delighted, more so when he gets the other gifts, a new leather laptop case and a cream sweater to match Jeno's red one. He's always liked Mark in neutral colours.

"It really isn't much," Jeno says, but he doesn't complain when Mark kisses him, thanking him over and over against his mouth.

When it's Mark's turn to hand over his gift, the greenish-hue returns, and despite the frigid air in the cabin, his forehead is suspiciously shiny. "Are you feeling okay?" He hesitantly asks. He presses the back of his hand to Mark's forehead. "You're burning up, babe."

Mark sucks in a breath, rubbing his swollen eyes. They’re both still exhausted. "Yeah, yeah. All good. Just gimme a sec." Jeno nods. "And, uh, and close your eyes. Okay?"

Jeno frowns out of concern, but he complies. The sudden darkness is nerve-wrecking, and he can feel the couch dip as Mark shuffles to get out his present. He trusts his boyfriend whole-heartedly, but his mind is racing a mile a minute as he tries to discern what it's going to be. They've never been a couple who lets the other spend a lot, preferring to keep things simple so they don't outdo each other. But the room is going haywire with nervous energy, Mark breaking out in a sweat... so it has to be something big. A car, perhaps? Jeno is always complaining nonstop about how he needs a new one. But would Mark really do that?

"You, uh, you can open your eyes now."

Jeno cracks one open, and then the other. He stops. His heart, his mind, his actions. They all stop, because in front of him is a ring. A simple silver band, embedded with tiny crystals that they glimmer faintly in the light, subtly. It's a ring. In a velvet box. And Mark is staring at him with so much hope, so much sincerity, but he swallows like he's trying not to hurl.

And it's a ring. And maybe it's just a gift, with no particular meaning, but then Mark is opening his mouth and talking, and Jeno's eyes are the widest they’ve ever been.

"Jeno," Mark is shaky, all over the place. "I- I pretty much gave away my entire speech in the bathtub so there really isn't much to say. Which is probably a good thing because, like, I know I'm a businessman but talking really isn't my strong suit sometimes."

Wordlessly, Jeno holds onto Mark's spare hand, shaking on his lap. He still can't remove the shock from his face, but he squeezes their joined hands, and it's enough for Mark to clear his throat and continue. "I know I haven't been the best boyfriend lately. But this is me promising to do better. Not that marriage should be a way to fix things, but like." 

He blows out a frustrated breath, staring anywhere but at Jeno. "I've had this planned since the first night you stayed over at my tiny apartment, and we ordered pizza and you tried to strangle me over that game of Monopoly. And when you went home the next day because you had an early class, you stole my sweater and I just thought _man,_ I want him over every single day. He's perfect. He's everything I want in a person because it just felt good being with you. Like, I didn't have to try hard to impress you because you just seemed happy being with me, no matter where we were. And then you legit _texted_ me, in your lecture, because you missed me. For no reason other than you missed me, and it was just simple, as simple as that. And I just," Mark sucks in his cheeks, eyes glistening as they both dwell on the memory, an old one now. Jeno has a hard time continuing to stare at Mark because he feels the sob in his throat, the ache he pushes down. "I think it's when I realised I love you, and I'm willing to do that for as long as you'll let me."

Jeno hangs his head, eyes stinging with unshed tears. He doesn't let go of Mark, squeezes his hand so tight it probably hurts. Even then, Mark continues. "I know I've been away a lot, but it's never changed how I feel. I went on all these trips and it always felt like something was missing, you know? And it took the thought of losing you for me to realise that it was you. And it's not... it's not worth being away from you, anymore. I promise, I'll make time for you. I'll call the company right now, I swear."

Jeno chokes on a laugh, his unbridled emotions forcing the tears out of his eyes and down his cheeks. "You idiot, Mark Lee."

Their eyes meet, Mark's bottom lip wobbling, but he's smiling. "Your idiot. The idiot who wants to marry you." Even now, his eyes search Jeno's, ever so careful. He still dares to think there's a chance Jeno will turn him down.

No chance in hell. "Well, I want to marry the idiot," his voice shakes, and he blurts it out as though any slight delay will have Mark pulling away, taking everything back. 

But it doesn't, because Mark's eyes are wide but he's slipping the ring on Jeno's finger and falling on top of him. Jeno doesn't have a chance to think before Mark's mouth greedily finds him, pressing him further into the pillows. It's desperate, the way he licks into Jeno's mouth, their teeth clashing together in the effort to get closer, closer, until there's no space between them. Jeno's hands find Mark's waist, so tiny that one covers his whole stomach under his t-shirt, warm to the touch. Jeno's tongue explores every angle, drinking in the taste of marshmallow and mint. His fingers swirl abstract patterns on Mark's skin, down his stomach and near the waistband of his sweatpants. He’s teasing, fingers brushing over the obvious bulge but never quite getting there. 

When Jeno moves his mouth to Mark's neck is when Mark speaks, a ruined croak. "Jen— Jen I need you."

Jeno smiles against his neck, his hands finding Mark's ass and pulling him against his crotch. Mark _keens_ at the contact, grinding down harder as Jeno continues to suck hickeys into his skin, the taste of Mark’s tears salty on his tongue.. Mark is unravelling on top of him, breathy pants growing in number as his cock hardens, heavy against Jeno's thigh. Their sweatpants leave little to the imagination, and it’s clear neither of them are going to be pulling away and recover to eat breakfast. 

Jeno finds Mark's mouth, rejoining their lips as Mark continues to whine every time their hips meet, ass flush against the outline of Jeno's cock. "I can't— I can't w-wait anymore," Mark slurs, sinking into the pleasure he's feeling. "Need you now." As he speaks against Jeno's mouth his hand has travelled under the waistband of Jeno's sweatpants, palming at his cock before taking it in his hand. It's an uncomfortable angle and Jeno hisses at the dry pull.

Neither of them are going to last long, the tension high. Like they’re fucking for the first time, and in some ways, it’s like they are. "Okay, yeah, yeah. I'll take care of you, but we gotta move to the bed, okay?" Jeno rushes. It's a struggle to move Mark off his lap and onto their bed, but Mark shucks off his shirt and pants so quick that by the time Jeno returns from digging around in the drawer for lube (he's got his own needs, and he thought he'd be alone), Mark is already on the bed, legs spread wide as he strokes his own cock, precum mess between his fingers. .

Jeno raises a brow at his boyfriend. "So eager already?"

Mark doesn't deny it for a second, any shame long gone. When he gets like this, needs Jeno in charge rather than the other way round, he rarely wants to waste any time. Instead, he nods eagerly, spreading his thighs even wider to present his hole to Jeno. "Please."

It's always been so easy to wind Mark up when he chooses, when he needs to be taken care of. It's not always this way, having Mark so pliant underneath his hands, but he positively _cries_ when Jeno is up to three fingers inside of him, tears glistening on his reddening cheeks. Jeno kisses them away as he continues to spread Mark with his fingers, getting him ready. It's been a while because of the travelling, and no matter how much Mark begs that he's ready, he doesn't want to hurt him. And the dribbles of precum painting both their stomachs makes for a pretty picture, in a weird sort of way. 

But sliding home inside of Mark is a different feeling entirely, being enveloped in his warmth, stretching around his cock. Jeno can't muffle his groan in time, and Mark eats it up, shit-eating grin on his face despite his hazy expression. “Move, c’mon baby. I’m ready.” He clenches around Jeno to prove his point, and Jeno has to take a deep breath. 

He surges down to kiss him, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and biting down at the same moment he begins to thrust inside of Mark, the latter moaning and digging his nails into Jeno's shoulder. Jeno strengthens his grip on Mark's thighs, raising them up to piston into Mark, spit dangling between their lips.

"F-fuck Jeno," Mark whimpers, Jeno's thrusts cutting through each syllable. "So fucking, fucking g-good."

Neither of them last very long after that, having been apart for so long. That, and Mark's always managed to get him coming as quick as a fucking teenager. Mark threads their fingers together, staring up at Jeno with those wide eyes, filled with so much surety, so much trust as he begs for it harder, faster, for Jeno to _do something._ All it takes is Jeno finding Mark's cock and thumbing at the slit for Mark to shudder against him, spurting into his hand. He clenches around Jeno as he comes, so tight and fuck — he sees stars — and it's enough for Jeno to finish inside of him, filling him with his seed. 

He pulls out with a groan, Mark whining at the emptiness.

"We should clean up," Jeno murmurs, collapsed beside Mark whose eyes are closed. 

"Later, c’mon babe," Mark mumbles, placing a sleepy kiss to Jeno's cheek. "Sleep time now." He doesn't even bother throwing the blanket over himself, always so lazy post-orgasm.

Jeno rolls his eyes, but lets him sleep. He’ll take care of it while Mark’s sleeping, knowing full well that when he wakes up he’ll be too busy demanding that they go again, because when his boyfriend — fiancé — is in the mood he’s insatiable. Not that it matters at all. Now, they have all the time in the world. 

“I love you,” Jeno whispers as he takes Mark into his arms. And under his breath, so soft that Jeno only just catches it, Mark tells him he loves him too.

  
  


When Mark wakes up much later, still groggy, he’s back in his sweatpants and tucked under the warm blanket on the bed. Jeno has cleaned him up and dressed him, taken care of him because that’s what Jeno does. Of course he wouldn’t just sleep and get some rest beside him. He has to go above and beyond. 

Mark’s so in love. Six years on, and the feelings are still the same. 

He switches to his other side, half expecting to find Jeno fast asleep next to him, but Jeno is awake. He has his laptop propped open, and he’s typing fast, completely in the zone as he pumps out what looks to be the next chapter of his novel. Mark blinks out the sleep still in his eyes, but doesn’t move to give away that he’s awake, so as not to alert Jeno. He’s content to watch him for now, relax into the bed and let Jeno work. He smiles against his pillow as he stares at Jeno’s set jaw, the little crinkle under his eyes as he escapes into the world he’s created, controls the characters Mark knows all too well from Jeno’s drunken rants. 

Mark’s stare moves from his face down to his hands, typing with lightning speed. His own eyes are falling shut again, exhaustion trying to drag him under once more. As he starts to drift off again, Mark’s eyes catch on to the ring, Jeno’s ring, the ring Mark finally gave him, tapping against his laptop. It glimmers ever so slightly. 

Jeno is going to marry him. Jeno is his _fiancé._

Mark buries himself further in the sheets with a fluttering heart and burning cheeks. When he awakens again, he’ll be sure to make good on his promise and call the company, then pay Jeno the attention he deserves, has deserved for so long. Take his time breaking him apart and piecing him back together again. But that comes later, when his eyelids aren’t heavy and his muscles don’t feel on the verge of collapsing. 

They have all the time in the world together, after all.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

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